


Insubordination.

by SepiaWhiskey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awesome Phasma, Badass Phasma, Drabble, F/F, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Phasma, Lesbians in Space, Marriage, No Lesbians Die, Original Character(s), Protectiveness, Trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepiaWhiskey/pseuds/SepiaWhiskey
Summary: A Stormtrooper becomes definat and must answer to Captain Phasma.





	Insubordination.

He wasn’t wrong, and he wasn’t going to back down.

 

The Stormtrooper, we’ll call him John for John Doe, remains planted in the seat of the second interrogation room. It holds the same haunting ambience of the first room, except in place of a chair with metallic, system-controlled straps, there are is a table and four chairs with two on each side. John sits left of the door, patient as prepares to report to his direct superior – Captain Phasma. In a small way, he’s somewhat nervous. The woman was an admittedly quite intimidating and it was not unlike her to rid of insubordinates. Whatever that may have entailed. But despite the harshness of her nature, there was a method to her madness. She was one of the greater believers of the First Order. And she wouldn’t let anyone under her authority halt this.

 

That was the part that frightened him a bit. Would she immediately side against him because he was causing waves?

 

Here was the situation:

_He had only recently been moved to the tactical weaponry used on the field. As of late, they’d been taking their time mastering proper control of the Z6 Riot Control Baton – or the Z6 baton for short. John had pretty good control with the weighted weapon, so much so that he felt he had almost surpassed the instructor – Commander ____. She had been walking the training area with that same constipated look of solemnity. She keeps her hands tucked behind her back, taking two-minute stops between partners in training before moving on. But for he and his partner, she’d paused for an extended amount of time. She watched John specifically. For why was unclear._

_  
There was something he did not like about the Commander. She could be relatively lenient at times where Captain Phasma was the most rigorous but beyond those moments, she was a fairly unlikeable person to John. He couldn’t really help the faces he made under his helmet when she came around him and when she had been standing there, it had just ticked him off the wrong way._

_“You need to adjust your posture when you strike upward, Trooper. Young or middle aged, you’ll throw your back from the lurching power of dropping the weapon. Fix it.” She tells John, standing in wait for him to do so. He moves his back several times, waiting for her to give him the okay. She doesn’t, and he can tell she is waiting for him to adjust properly. After a few moments, he finally stands upright and sighs, “I don’t know what you want me to do.”_

_The snip of attitude is not lost to the woman. She grits her teeth and bites back, “I’m waiting for you to observe the people around you and adjust yourself accordingly, Trooper. And unless you’d like to find out how the Z6 feels ramming against your teeth, I suggest you lose the attitude. You’re too replaceable of a pawn to have it.”_

_It’s a harsh burn, he won’t lie, but he cannot stand the manner in which he speaks. He is part of the rare 15% here who have come and served the First Order willingly. He sought them out and passed the necessary tests needed to fight this fight for them. He was aware that most of the people here had been brought in and raised to serve, but he wasn’t. Thus – part of him was still an individual. And as hard as he tried to push it away, he could not help how it came out. This moment being a moment he would regret completely._

_“Yes, ma’am.” He grits his teeth, turning his back on her to finish training. Despite his efforts, his training partner does not move, backing up a bit. He blinks under the helmet and admittedly jumps when the woman behind him let’s her voice boom, “Designation number! Now, Trooper!”_

_  
He turns back and looks at her, “Why?”_

_The training area is still loud enough, but a great deal of the troopers around the area are now straining to see what is going on. The commander takes a step up, “I am not the officer you want to cross. If you want your head gone, you have only to ask. But do NOT question me. At all. Designation number. NOW!”_

_He pauses, grits his teeth, but relents: “TK – 0327, ma’am.”_

_“You have a problem, Trooper?” She tries._

_“No…ma’am.” He grits his teeth, close to snapping them._

_She draws back, and he notices finally that her hand was close to her officer’s pistol, falling from there before she looks him up and down, scoffing before continuing forward, “Report to Sector 7. Expect to be referred to your captain for insubordination.”_

_“Looking forward to it,” He growls under his breath, watching her walk away._

 

 

And that’s how he got here. He only hoped he could pull some sort of mercy from his captain and come out of this alive. Literally.

 

The doors open with a faint _swish_ that take him by surprise. He jumps a bit, waiting a moment before watching the door. It doesn’t take long before the familiar chrome armor of his captain enters the room. She is void of her blaster and red cloak that typically slashes over her torso. She comes in a moment, stopping short between the table and the door that closes behind her.

 

He stands briefly, saluting here.

 

“Sit down.” She commands.

 

He does as she says, “Yes, Captain.”

 

She takes the seat across from him, “I’ve been briefed by Commander ____ that you were combative in speech and reacted with all around insubordination. Putting it kindly. She did not lack in expletives in her official report to me.”

 

“…if I may, Captain?”

 

She doesn’t respond.

 

“The commander was the one completely out of line. She was unnecessarily angry with me because –”

 

“You’re one of our voluntary recruits, aren’t you?” She tries. He stops briefly but nods, “Yes, Captain.”

 

“I can tell. You’re all a pain in the ass and fall under the impression that the First Order runs on democracy. If it did, we’d be as unorganized and useless as the Rebels. I wouldn’t waste my time here. _Remove your helmet_.”

 

It takes John for a bit of a surprise, but he complies, removing this helmet and resting it in front of him. In that same motion, he notices that Captain Phasma has done the same, and he is met with an unfamiliar face that bores into him with vicious blue eyes. It’s an honor as much as it is a complete terror.

 

“Captain…?”

“She should have just taken your head off and been done with you. We hardly ever give Stormtroopers ‘chances’ when we have so many to replace you. But I suppose she wanted me to see you for myself.”

 

“Captain?”

 

She leans in, eyes harsh, “Commander ___ is my wife.”

 

He can actually feel the room spin a bit and desperately wants to withdraw his entire military career as a whole. Without his helmet, he cannot hide the level of fear that comes over him. His entire face drains and he wonders how the hell he’s leaving here alive. And then it dawns on him. She’s revealing her face. She’s giving a daunting speech about how he should have been dealt with. She was going to kill him. Definitely. This was the last time he would be seen.

 

He can only look down, saying nothing.

 

“It would be unprofessional of me to deal out your punishment based on that alone...”

 

He begins to exhale –

 

 "But what kind of wife would I be if I didn't let it influence me _somewhat?"_

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

If you're being honest? You didn't expect to see the Trooper again. You hadn't sent him to your wife in the hopes or expectation that she would kill him, but you had certainly anticipated him to be removed from your sector. However, he returns with a straightened posture of being. You excuse yourself from a conversation with another officer and turn to him, hands folded behind your back. Unsurprisingly, you don't recognize him as the rebellious Stormtrooper immediately. It's only when he gives his designation number and you check your PADD that you realize. You give a knowing look, "You're back. On whose orders."

 

"Captain Phasma, ma'am." His statement is void of attitude.

 

"Is that right?" You ask plainly, "Under what motive?"

 

"I was given orders to apologize. I should not have spoken to you in the way that I did. I was wrong." 

 

"Do it again and I'll handle you myself." 

 

"Yes, ma'am." There is a strain to his voice. Something that suggests physical pain? Fear?

 

"Return the barracks. Be back same time for morning training. You're dismissed." 

 

You don't watch him leave when he salutes you, walking past you. You hold off until you hear the closing of the door before checking your messages. You had felt it beep a few moments before checking your PADD. You finger through the tabs before finding the newest message. The sender is no surprise. You bite back a smirk for being in the open, maintaining a straight face when you read it.

 

**I had to persuade him to keep quiet about us. You owe me.**

 

You delete the message immediately afterwards, sending back:

  
_Physical violence is a means of intimidation. Not persuasion. But I'm grateful, nonetheless. <3_

**_Stop it._ **

 

You bite back a chuckle. She just hated that heart at the end for some reason.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, we all know realistically there would likely never be some meeting had. But let's just pretend for a second that they would. Suspension of reality and all that jazz.


End file.
